


The Aftermath

by ABibilophilicLibra11



Category: Markiplier TV (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, Whump, Wing AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABibilophilicLibra11/pseuds/ABibilophilicLibra11
Summary: Rory finds Eric in Dr. Iplier’s office without wings and goes into shock.(I know it's vague but it's good I promise!)
Relationships: Eric Derekson & Dr. Iplier, Rory (my OC)
Kudos: 3





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19418899) by [Doctor_Discord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord). 



> !!!!IMPORTANT INFO PLEASE READ!!!!!
> 
> Firstly! I based this story off of a prompt request that was sent to Doctor_Discord via Tumblr about their own Wing AU. I absolutely do NOT own any of their characters or take any credit for the original work. It was an amazingly written fiction about their own Markiplier Ego Wing AU with Eric and his father taking his wings. This is their Tumblr! - https://doctordiscord123.tumblr.com/  
> Their AO3! - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord  
> They have a super cool Win AU please check it out!!! https://archiveofourown.org/series/1407205  
> And the original story and ask this was based off of is linked here.  
> https://doctordiscord123.tumblr.com/post/188138952619/doc-bby-pls-stop-ignoin-me-i-wanna-do-a#notes
> 
> Again, I do not own any of the characters featured in this story besides my own OC, Rory. Secondly, this is a continuation of that prompt. I just added something with my own OC and continued the prompt under the creative assumption that Eric went to Dr. Iplier after the incident. Again my character is not canon to their universe. This is just something that I wrote for fun. Otherwise please enjoy!

Rory was never the type of person to say they had ever experienced something that stoped them in their tracks. If someone had asked them about it, Rory’s mind would have gone straight to the overly used cliché authors loved to put in their novels. Never in their entire life had they ever experienced or thought they would experience something that “stopped them dead in their tracks.” Until now. 

Rage pumped through their blood like the pulse in their ears, fear struck every single nerve in their body like white hot lightening through their veins, and shock was the only barrier that kept the other two emotions from consuming Rory whole. 

Nothing was happening outside the picture of the two red, raw and mangled stubs that adorned Eric’s back instead of the powerful pastel wings that he once had in Rory’s mind. They didn’t blink, they couldn’t breathe, they had no idea the ungodly screech that was emitting from their lips. Rory didn’t even know they were screaming. Rory’s own wings, a pair of two ever fluttering sparrow wings, were now trembling violently. The longest feathers had long sense been dropped to the floor, the shock rendering them completely numb and useless. As they were forcefully removed from the room, several light feathers drifted off Rory’s wings to find permanence on the floor of the clinic.  
Rory’s shaking was a feverish quiver of shock and absolute horror that was never to be settled, even when they had been dragged from the scene and taken into a completely different room. Nothing was registering to Rory at that time, not the feeling of their shaking fingers clasped against their mouth, nor the desperate pleas from the doctor right in front of them to calm down and stay silent. It was impossible to shake out the black and bloodied stitches from the forefront of their mind, which had brought the ever creeping bile up to the back of their throat. It was all they could do to give a warning cough before doubling over and vomiting their breakfast contents out onto the tile flooring. Rory didn’t hear the doctor’s frantic curses as he located and grabbed the nearest container to contain their bile within. There was a persistent ringing that had found home within their eardrums as Rory did everything in their power to regain a decent breath. Stinging acid was the first sensation to return to the winged enby, and they nearly vomited up another round just due to the single sensation. If their lungs weren’t already burning from the bile, they surely would have been from the screaming, which had finally been reduced to stuttering gasps for air. Shock gripped at their every muscle, seeming to encase their lungs in an ever constricting grip. This was not helped in any way by the metaphorical ball that was growing in their throat, blocking their airways further. 

Vision was the second thing to register to Rory as their sight returned to them, finding it surprisingly blurry from the tears that trailed down their cheeks. But it was back none the less, and they could finally register the strained concerned face in front of them. The deeply emotional brown eyes quickly moved back and forth from something directly underneath Rory to something that was just coming back into view. There was feeling once more as a plastic breathing mask was hastily yet securely strapped over their nose and mouth, fresh oxygen forcing its way into their lungs. Their breath still came out in huffs, the mask fogging and clearing with each attempt. This was increasingly difficult, as though the vomiting had ceased, Rory’s tears of distress had not. Their nasal passages were rapidly filling with mucus, as Rory’s emotions had apparently decided to override the need to breathe. The stinging lump within their throat only worsened with each breath as though rusty rotted nails were scraping along their esophagus. Rory wished they were still numb, as the sensations and emotions they were experiencing at the moment was worse than any hell. 

Rattled, wet hacks were the only sound coming from the mouth of Rory, which worried Dr. Iplier to no end. His relief towards the abeyance of Rory’s muffled screams was seen in his own cessation of his fluttering wings. The pale blue appendages halted in their erratic expansions only for a brief moment. Several of his own feathers had been shed in the response to the anxiety writhing in his own chest. Quills of brown and blue mingled upon the floor, scattered and forgotten to their owners.  
Despite the lack of muffled screams that had filled the clinic not moments before, once it became clear the patient was having difficulty in obtaining air, the fluttering returned. His training and instincts kicked in, as he grabbed the nearest supplies which the room luckily consisted of a full tank of oxygen and a mask. It was then a process of getting the oxygen to the patient in the correct dose and settling their responses. Because of the emotional state Rory found themselves in, it was clear to Edward that their body was rejecting any type of outside aid. The glassy unfocused look had only recently dissipated from their gaze, as now Rory was watching his movements. There was still an air of terror and anguish that was fixated within the glassy pools of timber green. It reminded him of his own reactions to the boy when he walked, no, staggered into the clinic late the night before, carrying both his dismembered wings in hand. Dr. Iplier shook himself from the memory with a shudder, as he was brought back to the present with another strangled gasp for air from Rory. It only took a seconds glance at their condition, and he knew what had to be done. It was decided. 

His first plan of action was to give Rory some water to aid in clearing their enclosed airways. Dashing over to the sink in the next room over, he filled a cup with fresh water. Running back into the room he kneeled back down beside Rory, removing the mask to reveal a slobbering mess of mucus, vomit and saliva. He instructed Rory to rinse out their mouth first then take a few small sips. When holding the cup proved to be too much for the enby, Edward took the liberty of tipping it into their mouth and allowing them to rise out. Just after the first drink he could hear an improvement. Their throat seemed to be far more open than it had not two minutes ago, and he was positive the cooling water helped to aid their scraped esophagus. Their breathing was still quick in pace, and their breaths were ragged, but that had cleared one airway. Next he brought fourth a box of tissues and encouraged them to blow their nose, which they accepted gratefully. They turned away from him and threw the used tissue into the trashcan without another word. “Okay, Rory, now that your airways are cleared, I want you to take some deep breaths for me okay?’ His voice was calm and collected, his eyes locking with theirs as he spoke, placing the oxygen mask back over their face. For Rory’s credit, they did the best they could, inhaling as far as their lungs would allow and exhaling with a shuddering breath. But it was still progress. Dr. Iplier praised them lightly, taking their shoulder and bringing them back to a standing position. Once Rory wasn’t teetering on the edge of their feet, Edward guided them over to the empty hospital bed. Rory wordlessly obeyed, although they didn’t have much choice in the matter. Sitting down on the edge, Iplier explained he would be right back, and went to the cupboards once more. This time he was looking fro two things in particular. once he found and filled the items he needed, he headed back into the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

Rory’s breathing was noticeably improved, although it still had a slight rattle to it, and as for Rory themselves, they were still in a state of shock. Their wings and extremities had not ceased quivering, and they had gone back into a catatonic like state, their eyes focused on nothing and something in particular that was beyond his vision. So as calmly as he could, he came to sit beside them and removed the syringe from his coat pocket. “I’m sorry,” He mumbled before quickly inserting the needle into the crook of Rory’s arm. He didn’t have time for a proper IV infusion, he would set that up once they were asleep, but at the moment they needed something to put them to sleep. The feeling of the sting in their arm was enough to snap Rory from their dissociative state, looking with panic to the injection. Fear clouded their eyes as Edward held the arm steady in case they had the urge to move away. Luckily for Iplier, Rory remained still as the drug was administered. But once the needle was out of their arm, they quickly curled it back to their chest protectively, their left wing followed suit, shielding the abused limb. There was a flash of hurt in their eyes that didn’t fail to escape his notice, but it was quickly replaced with crippling sorrow once more. Another round of tears streaked down their face as their breathing shuddered. 

Rory began to feel as though they were slowly sinking beneath the waves of water, washing over their body and dragging them further down. Their movements felt hindered, like a computer that was lagging while loading a page, or the seep of molasses into a bowl. Rory’s wings fell to the with a flutter to the mattress meeting the smattering of feathers that had previously dropped, strength slowing being sapped. Exhaustion spreading from the tips of their wings to their shoulders, and extended down the rest of their body. Edward watched with sympathy and slight guilt gripping at his core as Rory is overtaken by the drug. The effects set in quickly, their wings and shoulders dropped, their breaths becoming slower, and their eyelids soon followed. Just before sleep completely overtook them, Dr Iplier laid them carefully on their back, being sure to position the wings so there wouldn’t be any strain when they woke up. Just before Rory allowed themselves to be fully submerged in the depths of sleep, they turned their head to the doctor once more. As darkness crept along the edge of their vision, they uttered two final words. “Poor Eric…” Eyes drooping closed and breathing evening, they fell asleep. The shuddering was the last thing to stop.


End file.
